


Infra-Red.

by HunterusHeroicus93



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Angst, Gen, Not brothers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-23
Updated: 2018-07-23
Packaged: 2019-06-14 19:30:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15395823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HunterusHeroicus93/pseuds/HunterusHeroicus93
Summary: “You can’t hide forever, you know!” Dean bellowed into the dark forest. There was no reply, of course. The monster never replied. Just ran.Dean has been given a job to do. It turns out to be more difficult than he expected.





	Infra-Red.

**Author's Note:**

> AU setting, but Season 12-ish. You'll understand.
> 
> Inspired by the Placebo song 'Infrared'. Trying to get out of writer's block, so don't yell at me if it's awful. :) If you have any comments, please leave them! <3

“You can’t hide forever, you know!” Dean bellowed into the dark forest. There was no reply, of course. The monster never replied. Just ran. Dean flicked the Infrared switch on his goggles and looked around. A flash of bright orange not ten feet away from him made him stop dead. Silently, he crept forwards. The flash disappeared behind a tree as the monster took off again, less silently. “I will find you,” Dean muttered, more to himself than the freak he was hunting. He cleared his throat, then yelled again. “Forget running! I’ll find you!” 

Sam closed his eyes and tried to slow his heart rate. He knew the hunter could find him with those high-tech goggles. He had no idea why he was being hunted. He couldn’t control his invisibility, and it was not his fault that poor woman had walked straight into him and fallen off that ledge. He had tried to help, but it was too late. She died, and now he was going to pay for it with his own life. He took a deep breath, then darted off again. 

“Dammit,” Dean grumbled, as the orange light disappeared again. It was fading, too. He must be lowering his temperature somehow. He sighed to himself. He had no clue why he was hunting an invisible man. As far as he could gather, the guy had done nothing wrong. The woman’s death was an accident. But he had been ordered to exterminate him, so that’s what he was going to do. 

It was pitch black now, approximately three hours into the chase, and Sam was getting tired. He’d tripped several times, his hair entangled with twigs and leaves. Anyone with a working set of ears could have found him, even without expensive equipment. He sat for a while, breathing shallowly, then realised he could see his legs stretched out in front of him. Crap. He looked up, and gulped. 

Dean was close to giving up. It must have been three, maybe four hours since he started after this guy, and he couldn’t seem to catch up. He pulled off the goggles, and was about to turn back, when something caught his eye. A pair of legs stuck out from behind a group of close-knit trees, seemingly attached to nothing. He watched as a torso came into view, the chest rising and falling quickly, followed by a pair of arms wrapped around a head of messy, shoulder length hair. He slipped towards the man unnoticed, his gun raised. A few seconds later, a face turned towards him, and the young man on the ground gulped in fear. His eyes turned wide and pleading, and he shook his head slightly. Dean aimed his weapon. 

Sam attempted to plead for his life, but no sound came out. He was too tired and scared. The hunter aimed his gun directly at Sam’s forehead. At least it would be quick, Sam thought helplessly. He shook his head, silently asking the hunter to make it painless. 

Dean hesitated, staring at the young man’s terrified face. He wasn’t a killer. He was just a scared boy who couldn’t control his power. Dean started to lower his weapon, but then his phone buzzed, reminding him he was under orders. He straightened his arms, holding his gun steady. He stared at the man, and nodded, trying to assure him it would be quick. He squeezed the trigger, and the deafening explosion caused a flock of nesting birds to shoot into the air. He pulled out his phone and typed out “Job done. Next?” and hit send. A few seconds later, a reply buzzed through. “Good work”, followed by an address somewhere on the West Coast. He pocketed his phone and his gun, knelt down to close the boy’s eyes, and headed back to his car, staring at his new eyewear. 

As much as he hated taking an innocent life, he had to admit, the tech was pretty cool. He was starting to enjoy working for the British Men of Letters.


End file.
